Divided, Not Conquered
by DinerGuy
Summary: As was often the case, having Patterson in their corner was a very good thing indeed.


_Written for dominatempore as a Christmas present. Standard disclaimer applies. Hope you all enjoy!_

* * *

" _You know the risks, and you had better be careful."_ Those had been Mayfair's words to her when Patterson had reasoned her way into joining the rest of the team in the field for this mission.

In hindsight, it had been much easier to nod and agree to do the careful thing than it had ended up being to actually do it, Patterson thought, even as she struggled to force her eyes open. She could hear her name being called somewhere in the distance, but she was having trouble focusing on whoever's voice it was. Not to mention all of the trouble she was having getting her eyelids to cooperate.

"Patterson! Come on. Wake up! Patterson!"

Okay, it sounded like Weller. Or no, wait, maybe it was Tasha. Or maybe it was both of them. Patterson wasn't actually sure.

"Is she okay?" That was definitely Tasha's voice.

And the hand now on her cheek would have to be Weller's, judging on the size. It was gentle and warm, and she wanted to just snuggle into it and drift back to sleep. But then the hand patted her cheek firmly, and she frowned. That wasn't comfortable at all.

"I think she's waking up!" That was Weller.

Patterson groaned at the exclamation. "Can you keep it down?" she mumbled aloud. "My head is killing me."

"I know," Weller said softly. "But I can't let you fall back asleep right now. Come on. Look at me," he coaxed. "That's it."

Reluctantly, she put all of her concentration into obeying, and her eyes finally blinked open. She squinted up at the shapes above her, trying to focus on them while simultaneously shutting out the pain now pounding behind her temples. As details started making themselves known, she offered a half-smile to Weller and Tasha. They were crouched on either side of her, both looking extremely worried.

Tasha tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "You okay?" the other woman asked, her brow furrowed as she studied Patterson's face.

"Yeah," Patterson nodded, although she was attempting to convince herself of that fact more so than just answering Tasha's question. "Yeah, I'm good." She put a hand down on either side of her and pushed to a sitting position. Then the room spun around her, and if it hadn't been for Weller's hand that was suddenly on her back, she wasn't sure she'd have stayed upright. She shook her head to try to clear it and offered him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, got… dizzy for a second." She wrinkled her nose and frowned as a thought suddenly occurred to her. "What happened anyway?"

Weller raised an eyebrow, apparently unconvinced of her claim to be all right. "What do you remember?" Great. Answering a question with a question. He must have been taking lessons from Borden.

"Ummm…" She had to stop and think about it. "Well, we were, uh, we were chasing that crazy guy," she started, feeling a little more confident when Tasha nodded. "And then we, we found him, but he'd rigged his house with traps and left himself clues so he wouldn't set them off." She paused, thinking, then continued, "Then there were some that no one could figure out how to disarm… and I came to help, and… Oh no," she stopped herself and looked between the two agents. "Did anyone else get hurt?"

"We'll live," Weller was quick to assure her.

When his answer caused Tasha to glanced sideways at him, Patterson got a glimpse of the blood smudged along her hairline. Eyes widening, Patterson looked Tasha up and down, realizing just how rumpled the woman's appearance actually was. Then her gaze drifted to Weller and she realized that he was in a similar state. The other agents had noticed her searching look at this point, and both smiled at her.

Tasha ran a hand over her hair. "Don't worry about us, Patterson."

But Patterson had never been good at not worrying. "What happened?" she asked doubtfully.

Weller and Tasha exchanged glances, then Weller cleared his throat. "We had a bit of a run-in with one of the traps that was still armed. We think that when that knob," and he tilted his head to indicate a door along one side of the room, "was turned, it tripped something that released a knockout gas and sealed the exits."

"With us inside?" Patterson concluded. Her voice came out weaker than she would have liked, and she cleared her throat, wishing it hadn't betrayed her just then. It would seem like she was afraid of the situation in which they found themselves. And she wasn't. She was just… worried for the rest of the team's safety.

"Yeah," Tasha nodded. "Reade and Jane were outside when it happened, so they weren't affected."

The pounding in her head wasn't getting any better, and Patterson rubbed at her forehead in an attempt to at least calm it somewhat. She happened to glance down as she did, and she frowned, looking back up at the others' dirty and smudged clothes and faces and then back at her conspicuously clean attire. "And then what happened? Knockout gas didn't do that to either of you."

"When we tried getting out - or rather, when Reade and Jane tried to get in - another trap got set off," Tasha explained. "There was a small charge wired to the door, apparently armed when the room was sealed, that went off when they attempted to force an entrance."

Patterson's eyes went wide at that. "Is everyone okay?" She really shouldn't have to ask that question so many times in one conversation.

"Yeah, we're fine," Tasha brushed the question off again.

Weller gave Tasha a look that Patterson couldn't quite read before explaining, "She covered you when the blast went off. I was too far away," he added apologetically. "You were still out cold."

"Hmph," Tasha snorted, glaring at Weller. "It was nothing. You're the one who got thrown against the wall. Now, if you're sure you're okay, Patterson, we could use your help in getting out of here."

Patterson blinked. "Oh. Yeah, sure, of course I'm okay. Let's do this." She rocked backwards and then pushed to her feet, only wobbling slightly, but Weller's hand was right there to guide her up. When she was firmly on her feet, she had to swallow back the burning in the back of her throat that threatened to make her sick. That was the last thing she wanted to make the others see, although she expected both Weller and Tasha would be gracious about it anyway. A moment later, the feeling passed and she gave a small nod. "Okay," she said again, "where do we start?"

Tasha exchanged a glance with Weller, then shrugged apologetically. "We were kind of hoping you'd have an idea," she said. "We've been all over the room, but nothing seems to make any sense." She looked frustrated at the lack of solutions, as did Weller, and Patterson didn't blame them. They were both probably still disoriented and in pain from the explosion, which had most likely packed a solid punch considering how small the space was where they had been trapped.

Chewing on her lip, Patterson began to turn in a circle, her eyes searching every inch of the room and her mind starting to turn a mile a minute.

* * *

Weller watched as Patterson's eyes began roving the room, taking in every detail and her thoughts undoubtedly speeding up to an incomprehensible level as she did so. He was worried about the younger agent; she wasn't supposed to have to deal with dangerous situations like this one. Sure, she had training, just like the rest of them, but she never had to put it into practice on a daily basis. She worked out of a lab for crying out loud; she didn't run around in a tactical vest, ducking bullets all day. He and Tasha could handle whatever got thrown their way during a case. Knockout gas and small explosions were one thing for them, but they were another thing entirely for Patterson, who was already looking quite pale from her ordeal so far. He just hoped that they didn't accidentally set off any more dangerous booby traps before they figured out an escape route. He wasn't sure how much more Patterson could take.

A gasp from Patterson pulled his attention back to the present. "What?" he asked, looking between the two female agents.

Tasha just shrugged at him before turning back to watching Patterson. The blonde agent was now standing up against the far wall, running her fingers over the grooves in the wood, as if looking for something specifically. Patterson was muttering to herself, and Weller caught snatches of her words as she thought aloud.

"...logic… But he has no logic… Or does he? Crazy, bad guy logic…"

Not wanting to interrupt whatever Patterson's process was, Weller stayed silent, opting instead for shooting another questioning look at Tasha. She just shrugged again in response, although her eyes searched his appearance worriedly. Having worked with Tasha for as long as he had, Weller knew what she was thinking, and he knew the concern in her gaze had to do with his injuries from the blast. To be fair, the feeling was mutual. Then Tasha shook her head at him, trying to discourage whatever concern he had for her. She leveled a look his way, then inclined her head at Patterson, as if to say there were more important things at hand at the moment. Weller sighed heavily. He'd have to make sure Tasha had a full examination by medical personnel whenever they finally got out of this place.

Suddenly, Patterson exclaimed aloud, more a shout of excitement than any actual words, and she turned to the other two agents with a giant smile spread across her pale face. "I've got it!" And then she was pushing in one small section of the wall, turning it as she applied pressure, and a moment later, there was an audible _clicking_ sound. She removed her hands and jumped back quickly, as if expecting a negative reaction, but then part of the wall rotated and popped outwards a fraction of an inch. Patterson flashed a triumphant grin at Weller and Tasha and then turned her attention back to the wall. She put her hands in two small indentations that were nearly invisible unless one knew specifically where to look, and pulled as hard as she could, grunting in exertion as she put what strength she had into it. Then, panting, she turned back to the others. "Uh, guys?"

"Here, move," Weller said, moving over to where Patterson had been standing just a moment before. Tasha took a step forward, then paused as she watched the lead agent to see if she was needed. It took just a moment for him to locate the two handholds that Patterson had just relinquished, then he pushed to the right, working to slide the section of the wall to the side. It took much more effort than he had expected, and he had to pause to reposition his feet and try again, but soon he was rewarded with a grinding sound as something behind the wall engaged, and the entire lower half of the wall began to slide aside.

"You did it!" Patterson exclaimed, not even trying to hide the excitement in her voice.

Tasha looked more hesitant than her teammate. "Do you think it's safe?" she asked, coming up beside Weller to look into the dark opening ahead of them.

He shrugged in response. "Well, there's only one way to find out, right?"

* * *

Reade was pacing alongside the vehicle the team had taken into the field, rubbing the back of his neck as he wracked his brain to think of a way to rescue the others. He and Jane had tried to free their teammates already, but that had only made things worse. He was quite certain he would never forget the gut-wrenching sound of Weller's yell of warning just before the explosion went off behind the sealed door. Both Jane and Reade had felt the porch shake under their feet as the blast went off inside, and the lack of response that had followed had been tortuous. It had almost been worse than the silence that had come after the first trap had gone off. There had been a clamor of voices as the three agents inside realized that the door and windows had all closed off, then they had trailed off, and then Patterson had yelled something about 'gas' and then, even from outside, Reade and Jane had heard the heavy _thud_ s, which they both had a sinking feeling were from their teammates hitting the floor.

Jane and Reade had circled the small building five times in search of another way in, but both doors and the three windows were all firmly closed off. When Weller had finally called out that he and Tasha were okay but that Patterson was still unconscious, that had only partially alleviated the panic the other two agents were feeling. And then they had tried to coordinate forcing their way in, but it was only moments before a high-pitched whine split the air and Weller had shouted in alarm, and then in the aftermath of the explosion, there was again deathly silence from inside the cabin.

Now Jane was down the road trying to get a cell signal to call for help, because of course, the deranged criminal had to pick a godforsaken cabin to take up residence. As for Reade, he was about to risk banging down the front entrance at this point. "Weller!" he shouted, putting his mouth up to the door. "Weller, is everything okay in there?"

There was no answer.

Trying to shake the worry that started clawing at his gut, he tried again. "Tasha! Tasha, what's going on?"

Still nothing.

"Patterson? Somebody answer me!" He slammed the flat of his hand on the door in frustration.

"Geez, Reade, you're going to wake the dead screaming like that," Tasha's voice came from behind him.

Reade whirled around, unable to hide the smile of relief that spread across his face as he took in his three teammates rounding the corner of the house. He hurried down the steps and over to join them, extending a hand as they reached each other. "You look like he-"

Not waiting for the handshake, Patterson grabbed him in a hug. "Reade! Oh thank God; I thought I was never going to see you again," she babbled. "Wait, where's Jane?" She released Reade and stepped back, ignoring his raised brow as she continued. "What happened? Oh no, were there traps out here too? I didn't think of that. Are any of you cold? It's freezing. Since when was the temperature supposed to drop? It's mid-July anyway."

The others exchanged concerned glances as Patterson continued to ramble on. Wordlessly, Weller walked to the back door of their SUV, pulled out a gray blanket, and then strode over to drape it over Patterson's shoulders. "We need to get her to a hospital," he told the others.

"Hospital? Oh, Tasha needs a hospital," Patterson told him seriously. "And you do too. Probably all of us do. Do you think they can do something about how cold it's gotten all of a sudden? It's so weird." Then she giggled.

Reade mouthed the question, ' _Shock?'_ at Weller, who simply nodded.

Just then, Jane came trotting back up the road, cell phone clutched in her hand. When she saw the others all standing together, relief visibly washed over her. She quickened her pace and was beside them moments later, and she wrapped Weller in a hug as soon as she was close enough. "Thank God you're all right!" She released him and turned to Tasha, who stepped backwards slightly at the idea, causing Jane to pause. Jane cleared her throat. "I finally was able to get through to Mayfair," she informed them. "She's going to send a medical team to meet us."

"We can meet them on the way," Weller decided. "There's only one road into this place anyway, and Patterson shouldn't wait any longer for a doctor."

"And neither should you!" Jane voiced Reade's thoughts as she stared Weller down.

Reade had already observed Tasha and Weller's appearances, and the blood on Tasha's forehead and matting her ponytail combined with the suspicious limp to Weller's stride and the overabundance of soot and dirt that covered both of them had Reade sure that there had been more to the explosion than anyone had let on so far. With Jane's help, he somehow convinced Weller and Tasha to ride in the back with Patterson, and then Reade climbed behind the wheel while Jane took the passenger seat, and they peeled out down the road. Uniforms were just pulling in to secure the scene, but they knew what to do from the orders that had been barked over the radio before Weller and the others had gone inside. For now, Reade and Jane were most concerned with getting their teammates the help they needed.

By the time the SUV rounded a curve and the ambulance headed their way came into view, all three of the agents in the backseat were showing the exhaustion from their ordeal. Patterson was muttering some sort of math problem to herself under her breath, Weller was glaring straight ahead at no one in particular, and Tasha looked like she was about to nod off on them all. Reade glanced in the rearview mirror and shook his head slightly. They would have to make sure the hospital didn't give the agents a shared room; Reade didn't even want to think of the havoc that would descend upon the poor medical staff if they put all three together. Although, on second thought, it might be an amusing sight to see…


End file.
